


10-inch MeatLovers

by fem_castielnovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Bad Puns, Blow Jobs, Cop Lucifer, Face-Fucking, Food Kink, Handcuffs, M/M, Panties, Pizza, Plot Twists, Smuggler John, The Pizza Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5999083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fem_castielnovak/pseuds/fem_castielnovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just some Juci meat lovers</p>
            </blockquote>





	10-inch MeatLovers

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, the explanation is at the bottom
> 
> written for, and inspired by both [salesassociatesteve](http://salesassociatesteve.tumblr.com) and [consulting-cannibal](http://consulting-cannibal.tumblr.com)
> 
> Incredible fanart made by [Mayalaen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayalaen/pseuds/Mayalaen)

 

 

John’s stomach gives a growl just as the doorbell rings. He finishes boxing up the goods and tucks it under his bed with the packing supplies and order sheet.

John stands and eagerly marches to the front of the house. When he opens the front door, frosty blue eyes stare back at him. They dart over John’s figure, and if John isn’t mistaken, the pupils dilate.

John clears his throat and makes it obvious that he also happens to be checking out the other man. “I’m sorry but are you delivering the pizza or are _you_ the ten inch meat lover?”

The delivery man bites his lip and returns John’s heated gaze, “Would that make you the ten inch meat, sir?”

His nametag reads: “Lucifer.”  
John hopes he does in fact turn out to be a deviant devil.

“Can’t we both be both?” John suggests.

“I don’t see why not.”

He lets a smug grin overtake his features as _Lucifer_ licks his lips and shifts his weight.

“You got here so fast and you’ve been so polite. I could double your tip if you’d like,” he suggests, with a jerk of his hips. He thumbs over his shoulder towards the inside of the house, “I have some extra cash this week. I’ve got a whole load, I could give you in the back.” The semantics of the sentence come out awkwardly, but have the precise meaning to effectively carry across his innuendo.

Lucifer presents a bright, wide smile, “Lead the way.”

John holds the door open as Lucifer steps over the threshold, “Bring that ten-inch meatlovers.”

 

The bedroom door is hardly closed when John drops to his knees before Lucifer.

“Hungry, are we?” Lucifer asks. He unzips his pants and John helps him pull them down to his ankles. Lucifer kicks them off.  “Would you rather have a slice-“ he elevates the box before dropping it on the bed, “-or a _pizza_ this?” he asks, shoving down his underwear and exposing himself.

John hums in satisfaction and practically attacks Lucifer’s dick with his mouth. John begins to lick and suck voraciously. But Lucifer stills him and limits his range of motion with a hand firmly gripping either side of his face.

“Do you have a favorite kind of sausage?”

John slurps as he pulls off to answer, “I can’t pick just one. It’s why I order the meatlovers. I have to have it all.”

Lucifer moans as John sinks back down, teasing the head of his cock and using a touch of teeth. He’s oddly quiet as John continues, even when he picks up the pace and takes him farther down his throat. John one by one starts to pull out all his best moves, working to get a reaction out of the other man. There’s some movement and he thinks that Lucifer must be leaning against the bed for support. Lucifer releases a loud moan and John thinks he’s finally getting somewhere. But he looks up to find that the deliveryman’s noises of pleasure seem to be because of the pizza he’s eating.

John stills his actions, watching the other man’s eyelids flutter and the whites of his eyes are exposed. Lucifer rolls his hips forward and John makes a small choking noise.

“Don’t stop,” Lucifer growls lowly around the mouthful of meaty, cheesy goodness.

John’s own meaty goodness throbs in his pants as he licks up the vein of Lucifer’s dick.

Lucifer picks up another slice and starts chowing down at the same time that he starts fucking John’s face. John just sits back on his haunches and relaxes his mouth, letting it happen. This apparently turns Lucifer on even more, as his speed increases, and one greasy hand comes down to hold John’s head in place.

Around a mouthful of dough, Lucifer exclaims, _“Uhhm ghmmingg!”_ which John takes to be a garbled “I’m coming,” so he pulls off and lets the seed splash across his lips and cheeks.

In John’s philosophy, sex is a lot like pizza: if you don’t get some on your face, you aren’t having it right. But sex should not match his typical _attitude_ towards pizza, which is to finish it on his own.

The cock of a gun doesn’t turn him off but it does grab his attention. He jerks his head up to find Lucifer holding the gun he’d heard, as well as a badge.

“Lucifer Novak; FBI.”

John sighs and leans backwards, “Shit.”

“I’m here investigating a smuggling ring.”

“I don’t know what-“

“Can it. I know that you’re the main supplier for a lingerie smuggling ring for the nation’s biggest prisons. I’m here to strike a deal. We can’t arrest you for selling panties but we can make your life a living hell because of it. I just want names and contact info, you don’t get any charges.”

“… Alright, we can work something out,” John concedes.

“Good. Hands on the back of your head, and stand up.”

 John thrusts his hips and prominent erection forward. “You’re not just gonna leave me hanging are you?” he asks with more expectation than indignation.

Lucifer looks down at him appraisingly.

 

The handcuffs hook nicely around the rungs on his headboard. They also feel deliciously wrong around John’s wrists. It adds to the sensation as Lucifer strokes him teasingly towards completion.

With meat-scented breath wafting over his face, it doesn’t take long before John is coming over Lucifer’s hand onto his own stomach. He jerks the handcuffs hard against the wood of the headboard as his body tenses, and he’s certain that there will be marks to remember this occasion by.

John falls lax, panting and a bit dizzy.

Lucifer leans over him, “You ready to head down to the station to give your statement?”

John swallows and sucks in a deep breath. His stomach takes the opportunity to grumble. John looks down at it then back up at Lucifer, “What do you say we finish the pizza first?”

“Good idea.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm almost underwhelmed at the barely trashy levels of crap porn I was able to achieve.
> 
> If you want an explanation, this is it:  
> [February SPN Coldest Hits](http://angrysouffle.tumblr.com/post/137788346743/february-rules-reblog-this-post-to-enter-your)
> 
> Exits are to your left, your right, and your rear, restrooms are to the front, Kudos and comments are found below, and as always, very appreciated. Thank you for flying Air fem-castielnovak.


End file.
